Whispers in the Pines - A BlackXRusset Story
by A Gravel Path
Summary: When Russetfur is overcome with new feelings for Blackfoot, things are pushed out of the way when several events seperate them. Will they ever begin a true romance, or is their love life just whispers in the pines? (Rated T just in casies)
1. Chapter 1 - The Sign

_Russetfur… what a beautiful name._

I stood there, the cunning cats of ShadowClan milling around me. Well, at least it felt like it.

In reality, some were hissing crude remarks of how I was not fully ShadowClan. Nutwhisker hurled a stray curse at the honor of the crowning of my name. Finchflight mumbled a dark, negative comment in the distance. I still held her head high, however. Hal was in my past. The image of him had spiraled out of my mind long ago, that was certain. The only cats who support me are ShadowClan's high ranks, a slightly grouchy she-cat named Yellowfang, Featherstorm, and Boulder.

Boulder's silvery fur tinged with gray brushed against mine, and he mewed simply, "Russetfur is a name that's quite great. It's the best that Cedarstar could give an outstanding cat like you."

I smiled at his generous comment. He didn't care about my yellowing teeth, even if I was only 13 moons old. Featherstorm grinned bleakly at me in the corner of my eye, but I didn't flinch from it. I kept on gazing at Boulder pleasantly. _He's like a brother to me. We've been through a lot now._

Eventually, the cats left. I felt glad that some cats felt a morsel of sympathy for me and shouted my name to the sky. Maybe StarClan was watching over me now… but maybe not.

Russetfur had always been doubtful of StarClan. She knew quite feebly that they were there, but she never gave as much respect to them as the Clan cats. It was something that made her feel cramped up inside. It was so ungraspable. It was impossible to explain to Boulder, who had strong connections to the religions of his Clan.

"Let's go ahead and get some fresh kill, Russetfur. That'd be so fulfilling for my belly right now!" he joked lightly and swept me up with a signal of his slender tail.

I paced across the darkening camp with firm paw steps. The ground, mushy from previous rain, oozed slightly under their arrival every time. I trailed behind him until we reached the fresh kill pile. I tenderly selected a squirrel, and Boulder chose the complete opposite - a slimy, plump toad. I giggled when he licked its grimy outer skin and replied, "Mmm! Awfully gross to you, but it just tastes like food to me!"

I leaned in for a tasty bite of the prey when the sloshing and playful screeches of Blackfoot and Ashheart stopped me. A splatter of mud hit my cheek, and I suddenly felt my fur grow hot. Ashheart kept carrying on and dashing ahead, but Blackfoot came to a complete halt beside me. Boulder's head cocked to one side. It was apparently the mostly white warrior's fault.

"I'm really sorry, Russetp-fur. It's just that, well…" he trailed off.

It was uncomfortable to me that a warrior, two moons older than me, was apologizing for a bit of mud. It seemed strangely out of character. I swept my tail, trying to goofily intimidate him. "Well then, Blackfoot, this is all your problem!" I hissed, flicking my whiskers, "And now you're going to have to clean and groom the elders for two seasons!"

Blackfoot stared blankly back, until he understood the joke. "Ha, Russetfur. I just wanted you to know I really didn't mean it."

His eyes darkened, the black pupils settling on his huge black paws. His tail curled up against his back. Then, momentarily, he looked up at me. My eyes, soft green, met guilty, glistening gold. Out of no where Ashheart came tumbling back.

"Hey Blackfoot! Bet'cha can't figure out where I hid that moss!" she meowed loudly. She nudged him away from where Boulder and I sat, forcing him away.

I scrappily finished my squirrel and stood up a while later. Now the stars, the ancestors of all four Clans, were gathering high up. Boulder had already finished his meal and left with a sincere goodbye. He had probably already fallen asleep in his nest anyways. I thought back to how Blackfoot looked at me for that split second.

_No,_ I glared at the dark, puddle dotted ground. _He's totally in love with Ashheart. Because he's stupid. And he can go ahead and like me. I don't care._

I grumbled and left my eating place. I scowled when I heard Ashheart laughing violently and cuffing Blackfoot over the ear. I instantly ducked away into the warriors den, and found that Boulder had actually set aside some time for me and made me a nest. I prodded it with heavy paws and curled up in a daze of dreams.

I was watching an enormous, orientally patterned brown tabby gripping the ground. It changed to a scrawny black tom, and then to… what was it? It was blurry and undefined. I squinted my almond shaped eyes and made out another brown tabby. The cats were coming and going so fast that it was hard to make out anything, but then, to her amazement, Blackfoot. He was watching over ShadowClan.

I looked at the cats around me. They were all sad, depressed, cold and bitter. They moaned all around me. _Why are they so upset? _I noticed a black tom sulkily grooming his matted pelt.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I tried to get some information from him. Instead, he continued cleaning.

I continued to ask ShadowClan what had happened, why they were all so unhappy. But the same result came every single time - nothing. I gave up and started to leave the camp.

Blackfoot interrupted me, however. I swirled around, confused that he was the only audible, speaking cat here. "What!" I screeched back, letting my grumpiness unknowingly get the best of me.

"I want you to be my deputy." he mewed back blankly, his throat oddly raspy yet cool at the same time.

_What's going on? This is so unrealistic!_ I scrambled away from him. He stared back emotionlessly. I kept running 'till the entire camp was out of sight.

**Yeah okay. Let's get real.**

**This is my first story on the site. It's choppy. It's short. It's rushed.**

**You get the point. However, I know this is not even close to the standards of most of my stories. This is somewhat close to a test.**

**However, I promise the plot will deepen, the characters will become more round and engaged, and overall the story will get tons better.**

**So don't forget to review! - Pathy**


	2. Chapter 2 - The Accident

The sun was smacking me in the muzzle with its harsh yellow rays, waking me up to my fullest. I took several deep breaths, and then got to my shady ginger feet. There was a small cramp in my neck, and I tried to remove it by rubbing myself against the rough wall of the den. That didn't work. It only caused me to squeak, and I felt rushing nervousness that I had awoken a sleeping Clanmate.

Nope, thank StarClan. The only cats still around were Toadskip and Scorchfur. I traced careful pawsteps out of the musky den, and then found myself sitting a fox-length away from the medicine den. Inside, Yellowfang was moodily addressing Fernshade to keep good care of her wounds she had received sometime yesterday. I ignored them, and didn't speak to the tortoiseshell when she left the funky smelling outcrop.

I yawned lavishly, trying to put away all memories of the rushed, seemingly pointless nightmare I had. The thought of anything like that _really _happening any time soon in the forest was impossible. Nothing in this wild could come to a point where a scrawny, somewhat disagreeable cat like her could rule beside that unrealistically flea-brained Blackfoot.

A cat approaching alarmed me. _Don't show that you had a bad night,_ she firmly coached herself with reassuring words.

"Patrol?" asked a she-cat's silky voice.

It was only Newtspeck. I dipped my head in a manner of silently replying yes, and got off the pale ground, no longer mushy. Brackenfoot, Foxheart, and Featherstorm were still on standby near the camp entrance when we reached them. It made me wonder if it had taken a while for Newtspeck to make up her mind about bringing me along.

As we left, I leaned over to Brackenfoot. "I don't even know what patrol this is," I admitted shyly, "I just woke up, and she never told me, Newtspeck, that is."

Brackenfoot didn't face me, but kept on pacing. "Hunting patrol," he grumbled quietly.

I didn't understand his grumpiness. What caused it? I shook my head and kept on slipping through tall weeds, putting that out of my mind as well. Eventually, we came to a broad tree, and I went with Newtspeck down to the darker regions of the territory, uneasily close to Carrionplace. I always hated the stench, but I didn't want to upset the leader by turning back.

I sniffed around for a stray moment of time, my tail rigid in the air. It was difficult to catch any scent of warm prey around. The trees seemed to be throwing her off, as if they were too close to her. A droplet of water splashed on my right ear, and I scooted away, shivering.

Newtspeck let out a sly laugh. "Cold, Russetfur?" she asked and then disappeared into clumps of shaggy lady ferns.

I growled, not hiding my mad side. I stuck my nose to the ground, keeping my mouth cracked open, and stormed away. A bird took off and cast a shadow as I did so, but I ignored it. It was headed in Newtspeck's direction, and I wasn't going to ruin my reputation by possibly messing up in front of her. Instead, I veered away from her and the Carrionplace and streaked down until finally a thrush could be sighted.

I kept my tail off of the ground and placed my claws into the bark of the tree it was in. Stealthily I made myself up, farther and farther from the green ground. I had not let any noise startle the pale brown bird. Then, gathering my strength, I shot forward, and…

Newtspeck had appeared from the other side. She knocked me down, and I felt myself sliding down the tree. I could hear the bird crying out as Newtspeck caught it anyways, brutally ignoring me as I snagged a claw and screeched in pain. I struggled to turn myself around, but the hurt coursing through my leg stopped me. I clenched my teeth together and prepared to hit the ground. The wind tugged at my fur as I got closer, closer.

I hit the ground with a thud, a thud loud enough to unsettle my hearing. My ears rung, and I felt tears searing and slipping out of my tightly shut eyes. I was in total shock. Completely hopeless, helpless shock. I forced my deep red eyelids open, trying to get a grip of myself. I raised my head and saw a trickle of blood coming from my belly, and my leg was feeling numb. I couldn't fully make out Newtspeck returning from the very top of the oak tree, only sighting her through blurry glimpses. I wailed for her, but she seemed to be frozen. Then she leapt down like a spiraling leaf.

The orange and black she-cat leaned over me. She motioned for me to roll over and try to stand. I did so, but found great difficulty in getting off of the beaten forest floor. She eased me up, and I could feel something wrong with my front leg. I urged to not stare at it, and instead focused on getting away from the accident's landing ground.

Newtspeck's mouth was moving, her pink tongue rapidly moving around as she pronounced hurried words. "I'm sorry, Russetfur! Come on, we have to hurry and get you to Sagewhisker."

They stumbled around, fumbling through the smelly land off of Carrionplace. Foxheart stopped as she was encountered by the ragged pair. Newtspeck told her what had happened briskly, noticeably leaving out that it was her fault it all happened, and added in the thrush she'd left behind. Foxheart obediently charged to where it had been abandoned.

My leg began to gain feeling again, in a horrid feeling like it had been crushed in the center. "Newtspeck! Please, hurry!" I cried out, contributing by moving my three somewhat uninjured legs.

"We're almost there, Russetfur," she said in a soothing voice; although it was clear to the red tabby that there was guiltiness in the tone. Atleast there was.

We wretchedly made their way around a stump and through dense, shadowy brambles to the camp. I looked down as the blood from beside my foreleg dripped ominously to the dusky colored ground, temporarily disappearing whenever we crossed over green-brown grass clumps. Fernshade, who had already been to Sagewhisker before, poked her head out of the den and gawped at me. "Injuries!" was all she worriedly moaned to the cat inside.

Instead of a graceful solid white cat slipping out of the den, it was Yellowfang. Her ears were flattened, and hr eyes only widened when they made contact with my flimsy leg. Newtspeck and I caught up with her and tumbled into the den. I hobbled the last few steps to a makeshift nest, since my partner had broke away from me violently. It was only then that I noticed my injured leg had a fairly large, blood-welling gash on it. I tried to make an apologetic face form on my muzzle, but instead it screwed up when Sagewhisker suddenly arrived and laid me down forcefully on the nest by accident.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Russetfur." she squeaked like a kit when she realized what she had just done.

Sadly, didn't sound too experienced to Russetfur.

I was randomly overcome by more waves of undeniable pain and began to twitch. This caused Yellowfang to bark a hoarse order to Sagewhisker for some herb she couldn't make out the name of. What was it? Gomfrey soot… shromfrey root?

"What are you doing?" I moaned with worry as Yellowfang padded away.

"Getting cobwebs," the apprentice said, "You have a nasty cut on your chest and leg, and the bleeding isn't going to go away like snow on a Newleaf dawn, of course!"

She tenderly placed lacy strips of cobwebs around the top of my leg, where it didn't seem to be generating awful aches. Then she moved to my other side and plastered another batch to my chest wound I had received from a large, long branch. Seconds later, Sagewhisker whisked out of the deeper interior of the den with a half chewed, pitch black root in her mouth. She moved her jaws in blurring fashion, and whenever she had enough, she'd drop the rest of the root and smooth it in her matted fur. This always caused a mew and squeal from me, and I couldn't help it at all. It was an evil reflex, I guessed.

By now my hearing was completely better. I picked up the sound of distinct, loping paws in the distance. _Boulder, _I knew in my mind. His running had a characteristic lope to it, and I had gotten used to hearing it during all those training sessions and such. He appeared in the entranceway of the den, casting a shadow over my eyes. "Russetfur?" he questioned, timidly coming closer to the clump of fur, Sagewhisker, and Yellowfang, "What happened?"

I tried to answer, but when I raised my head, Yellowfang abruptly stepped backwards and bumped into me. I couldn't recover from the interruption.

"Well, she fell from a big old tree from near Carrionplace. We were out hunting, and she was going to get a thrush. Then she suddenly lost her balance and fell. I stood there, in complete, frozen terror and watched as she scraped against the branches. But then, courage flowed through me, and I leapt under her and broke her fall!" Newtspeck declared.

Two things flashed in my mind. The first was that Newtspeck was a ginormous liar, and the other was that she was actually still in the crowded den. "No, you didn't do that, Newtspeck. You knocked me down from the tree! It's all your fault, and you're guilty!"

I could feel Boulder whirl around to stare down the she-cat. "Did you really cause this?" he demanded.

Sagewhisker and Yellowfang were somewhere else searching for the right treatment and medicine when Newtspeck retorted, "Of course not! I was really saving her. And I have proof."

She stepped forward, avoiding leftover scraps of green, brown, and black herbs. Her darkly patterned tail was held against her back as she simply leaned down…to show where a few scattered claw marks where her shoulders formed. "It's where she clung to me." she meowed triumphantly.

I growled, my agitation rising fiercely. But Boulder stopped me from bubbling over as he placed a paw over my side. "You were probably in shock. Maybe all you remember is when she rolled you off of her shoulders," he told her.

"Yeah," said the dappled she-cat from behind her.

I thought she was about to shove in some more sappy lies, but a call from Foxheart and Featherstorm sent her bounding quietly out of the den. As soon as she left, I began to ponder how in all of ShadowClan that Newtspeck had managed to get those claw marks. She couldn't prove her guiltiness until she found out how it was accomplished. She didn't have any scratches or wounds when they left the clearing. Also, they weren't yet there when they split paths after her rude remark. So when did she get them anyways?

She snapped back to harsh reality when Sagewhisker and Yellowfang returned from the shady retreats of the stone den. I looked up at them, fear pulsing in my emerald green orbs for eyes. Boulder tensed. The smoky gray, younger cat had a saddened, hopeless look on her face as Sagewhisker brought the news.

"Your leg is broken."

**Okay. I plan on the chapters getting a bit longer every time.**

**Also, I'm going to be updating every other weekend, and stray weekdays. Got lots of reports due this week, (3) so probably not any this week. But I'll try to get Chapter 3 up before Mother's Day is over.**

**So stay tuned! .o.**


	3. Chapter 3 - The Slow Day

By now it was a little while after the part of the day where the sun was highest. I was able to catch some stray leaf-fall rays near the edge of the medicine cats' den. Even though my broken leg wouldn't get better until another moon and a half, and was in a ridiculously large wrap, Sagewhisker had allowed my nest to be moved to the entrance. Yellowfang was a bit skeptical, however, of the idea.

"No. You are not going to sit there! We have to come in and out of here, you should know, very often. We'll never be able to get out of here with your hulking self sitting in front-"

"Please, Yellowfang," Sagewhisker stopped her rambling, "It's not that big of a deal. Let Russetfur go ahead and lay there. She deserves to be comfortable after the accident."

I had intently watched their conversation. I winced at Sagewhisker's last words, "After the accident." It wasn't an accident, right? No. Newtspeck is the guilty party, and I'm the victim. This was never, ever an accident, or it never seemed so to me.

"Alright," Yellowfang finally muttered, her shimmering orange-amber eyes staring straight ahead to where I would be transported.

So Sagewhisker eased me off of my soft bundle for a nest and she pawed it away toward where there was more light. The sun rays sent her murky white pelt into a bright blaze. She turned to face me, standing beside a wall stocked with herbs. "Do you want to try and get over here by yourself? I'm just saying - don't try anything you don't think you can do." she said to her, her blue eyes illuminated.

"Yeah. Sure," I replied unenthusiastically. I raised my front leg, then followed up quickly with my back legs. _Now just do that three more times,_ I told myself. But then, I tumbled to the left, the side of my broken limb, and into the great mass of herbs. They fluttered over my head, and some even stuck to my pelt. Berries went tumbling. Poppy seeds scattered.

"Oh really, Sagewhisker! Look what you've caused!" Yellowfang half snorted, half yowled in disgust toward the medicine she-cat.

"Don't get angry at me," Sagewhisker hissed as she padded forward and helped me up.

"Thanks," I told her. _And I hope Yellowfang doesn't get angry at me, either._

Yellowfang's bushy gray tail swished, but she didn't retort back. I stood by as she bustled over and began to reorganize the entire stock. I sort of felt…weak. This was all my fault, and I needed to help in fixing it, right?

I stepped forward, almost colliding into Sagewhisker when she turned around to scoop up some marigold and mallow leaves. "Yes?" she asked, noting the look in my eyes expertly.

I told her that I wanted to aid in the cleaning, and she allowed me. I sat back on my haunches while she told me where to put those marigold flowers and mallow leaves. It didn't take as long with three cats doing the work, and when we were all done tidying up, I felt a bit more cheerful. I fixed something that I caused. I didn't sit around and slack off, making others do everything. That's what all warriors should do.

Then I was excused, and I cautiously wobbled over to my nest. What a great reward sunbathing was, even though normally it wouldn't be! I laid my head down and soaked up the heat waves as they crashed onto ShadowClan's camp.

"Oh," said a cat walking around camp.

_Really? I was just falling asleep, and now this_ - oh. It was Blackfoot.

"Something bad happen, Russetfur?" his white tail drooped, stirring up dust and stray weeds on the ground.

"Of course, mouse-brain." I hissed at him, and rolled over onto my back to show where my leg had to be put in a bind so it could mend. It was still tinged with reoccurring pain.

He leaned down to inspect it carefully, his eyes wide with kit-like curiosity. He suddenly tapped it with one big, six-toed paw.

"Ow!" I screeched and tried to flip over. "It still has feeling, inchworms-for-head!"

"S-sorry," he apologized, trying desperately to sound as polite as possible. His white tail wrapped around his limbs protectively. I slowly twisted myself back around to face him, his shadow blocking out the sun.

I told him that I wouldn't be better for another two moons or so, and that I was probably nest-bound for half of that bothersome time. It was then when I realized how repetitive and boring this was going to get after the first quarter moon. Oh come on, it was going to get annoying without some freedom!

Then he laid down so he could be level with me. "How did this happen?" he questioned, trying to probe me for answers to everything.

I debated a while whether or not to tell him it was all Newtspeck's fault. I already knew that he, along with his brother and sister, definitely didn't approve of her as a close friend, and she most likely never would be to them. She had always bullied them when they were elder kits in the nursery, and it seemed to go unnoticed by Hollyflower. Their thoughts would probably remain until they were all grumpy old elders cramped up together under the same roof.

And that was why I decided to go ahead and tell him. "You might not believe this, but you really, really should listen, okay, Blackfoot?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice quivering because of my suddenly intense tone.

"This is all Newtspeck's fault. We were out on a hunting patrol a little ways off of Carrionplace. We were walking side by side when water dripped on my head and-"

Blackfoot giggled. "Hey!" I growled, "That's what she did. Don't go doing it too!"

After he calmed his laughing fit, he straightened his broad shoulders and pricked his ears, ready to listen to the rest of my factual tale. "Alright. So I left off at the water incident. Well, after that, we split up. Or at least I thought so at the moment. Eventually I spotted a bird up in a huge tree-"

"That you fell from." the other warrior butted into my story again.

All that earned was an impatient hiss.

"And so I decided to go after it. I scaled up one side of the tree, and when I got ready to shoot out and catch it, Newtspeck did the exact same thing from the opposite side of the tree. She rammed into me and caused me to fall." I wrapped up the story, and showed him my lost claw, leg, and cut chest.

He sort of sat there for a minute, staring off into the distance, as if he was concentrating on a memory from a long time ago. "Umm…" he murmured in and out of his thinking spells. Finally he stood, and placed a tail on my forehead. I flinched, and he drew it away swiftly, as if it never happened in the first place to the reddish tabby she-cat. "I believe you." he finally said.

"Well good!" I mewed, smiling. But it suddenly faded away into my jaws. "Are you not being truthful?"

"What? Of course I am, you silly little ball of fur." he told me, his eyes glimmering, at least with hints of honesty.

"Oh. Well, just want to be sure, because the medicine cats still think it was an accident, and I haven't tried to convince them of Newtspeck's actions yet. Boulder, on the other paw, thinks that it _was_ an accident, but she _saved_ my fall."

He nodded thoughtfully, his whiskers swaying on a faint breeze carrying the musky scent of the forest. "But isn't it weird," I added in, "That I can't assure Boulder it's all her fault? No, wait. I take that back. Newtspeck had her own 'evidence.'"

He turned around, as he was beginning to leave to get some prey. "Evidence? What do you mean, 'evidence?' Newtspeck is too stupid to be stirring up a pool of lies like that." he said flatly.

"She has scratches on her back. She said that's where I _supposedly_ gripped her fur when I fell." I told him, sitting up in my nest of assorted mosses and ferns. The sun dappled Blackfoot's pelt as he stepped away.

"That's Newtspeck for ya. She's always going to want to cause mischief. But you and I are going to find a way to prove to every cat in ShadowClan that it's all her fault, right, Russetfur?"

I looked at him, standing up for me when I couldn't. "Yeah. No matter what."

He reached out a black paw to me, claws sheathed and pink pad up. I slowly moved my lighter red, striped paw to meet his own. "I guarantee it." he said.

"Me too," I replied. I watched his sleek pelt merge in beside Flintfang and Rowanberry. When they sat down pleasantly near the fresh-kill pile to eat, I mewed quietly under my raspy breath, "Together."

**Whee. Endpage. **

The moon had settled in the sky, which was purple like a juicy berry and dotted with stars. I couldn't really see the night in all its beauty, however, because I had been relocated once more to the rear of the den. My head lay down on the ground out of my nest groggily as I drank from a ball of moss Sagewhisker had delivered for me. All of my legs were splayed out in odd angles, and when I moved them, my bed became less sturdy. I had already been scolded because I kept destroying the nest. I didn't want to be stuck here. I wanted to be trotting around like all the other young warriors, not holed up like a mole.

I stopped drinking and curled up rigidly. My emerald eyes were dotted with white as I continually tried to close them. I needed some sort of sleep, or I would be extra grouchy in the morning - maybe close to Yellowfang's level of irritableness when she got wet.

I churned around in my nest, but I kept getting poked by something. I strained to twist around to my good side and stand up. That took a while, but I finally got off of the cold floor and shook my pelt. Clumsily I leaned down and nosed through the nest, only to find several tiny brown thorns embedded inside it.

_Well, there's a good enough reason to demolish it,_ I said smugly inside my head. I started to hobble away when a sound alerted me. It was a deep, rumbling sound that came from some creature's throat.

No, wait. That was Sagewhisker snoring.

I sighed in relief and made the last few uneasy steps to the exit, early moonlight landing on my back. A few cats were up and about, including Clawpaw, Nightpaw, Cloudpelt, Nettlespot, and Archeye. I decided that none of those wide awake in the clearing would mind me around, or tell on me to the medicine cats, so I joyfully escaped my prison-like den. Prison was the perfect word to suit how I was going to live for a long time now.

I enjoyed my freedom momentarily. Only momentarily because Boulder stepped up behind me, his smooth voice purring, "Shouldn't you be back there?" He flicked his silvery tabby tail towards the trail to the medicinal den.

"Uh. Nope," I went ahead and lied. There was no way out of his accusation now. I was out in plain sight, ten tail-lengths away from where I should have been.

He brushed against me warily. "Don't worry. You're probably just hungry, and your mind is guiding you to the food. Come on," Boulder concluded by padding away to the fresh-kill pile.

I sort of just stood there, dumbfounded. He was angry at me, sure, but he… oh come on. That was Boulder: hard to understand, but easygoing and determined.

"Are you coming or not, slug?"

"Of course!" I bounced back immediately and followed him in a stumbling fashion. That leg was never going to quit giving me trouble. Every time I let it pound on the ground, a torrent of hurt would shoot up my spine, causing me to freeze like solid ice and grit my teeth.

It was certainly a journey to cross the camp. I planted my broken leg on the clearing ground twice, and Archeye had to come rushing to help me when I nearly toppled over, since Boulder was too far away at the time. I plopped down on my left flank and let an exaggerated sigh slither out of my lungs.

I was literally asleep while I was eating. I couldn't even remember what I picked up, but it was small… and slimy…

"Bleh!" I squealed and spit it out of my mouth. Lying there, under my paw, was a frog.

An evil, disgusting, relentlessly gross little frog.

I smacked it out of the way. Thank StarClan that Boulder had been watching and smiling like a kit who had been told the joke about the rabbit and his tunnel. It was this that caused him not to eat anything, so he volunteered to have another amphibian for the second night in a row.

What Boulder eats is nasty. He'll eat just about anything.

I looked away from him and scraped out a young sparrow from the pile. I plucked out a fairly sized clump of chocolaty brown feathers with four claws and put them aside. As I nibbled into my meal lusciously, I could hear Clawpaw and Nightpaw approaching.

They halted a little ways off from us, however, as the feathers I chucked off the sparrow had caught a breeze and floated their way. Nightpaw had crouched down, his tail waving in the air playfully. He snatched up a few with his front paws and flung them in the air, leaping and snatching them as they fell.

"Stop that," Clawpaw grumbled, "You look like a baby in the nursery suckling from our mother's belly."

Nightpaw landed on the earth with a thud. "Fine then," he whimpered and stalked away from the larger, muscular brown tom. I noted that Clawpaw already had scars, even though he was only a moon away from being a warrior.

I went back to taking chunks out of the bird. Boulder, as always, had finished quickly. He stuffed everything down before I had even gotten three measly bites, most likely. It was actually getting very dark when I had finished my prey, but Boulder had waited patiently until she devoured the last bite. He stepped around the fresh-kill pile and l was lifted off the ground as he supported my side. Together we flocked into the medicine cat's den.

I told him about the thorns in my nest. "Alright then. You and I can pick them out, and then I'll stop bugging you, okay?"

"That sounds nice," I meowed tiredly, "But I'm not chasing you off."

Together they sifted through the entire bedding, tossing out the thorns and sending them skittering to some place else where they were least likely to be stepped on. They vowed to clean them out tomorrow when there was valuable daylight.

Yawning deeply, I curled up once more into my nest, although much more sweetly than the previous go. Boulder leaned over me and groomed my fur a little bit before touching noses and leaving out the den. "Bye," I whispered out my soft red muzzle before finally drifting into much needed, much deserved sleep.

**There you go. Have a juicy new chapter.**

**So yeah, "The Slow Day" is the perfect title for this chapter. 'Cause it's boring. I promise things will heat up around Chapter 5, or I'll try to make it happen. c:**

**So, stay tuned and review! It makes my day tons better.**


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